


From Another Universe, We're Inseparable

by levram



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Characters Can Be A Bit OOC, M/M, Major Character Death is Canon, Nothing You Wouldn't Already Know If You Played Burial At Sea, Romance, SPOILER WARNING IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED BURIAL AT SEA, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levram/pseuds/levram
Summary: "He reminds me so much of Booker."A story where Bioshock is Bioshock except Frank Fontaine and Booker Dewitt fell in love. A story where Booker died and Jack appeared. Then Atlas fell in love with Jack.





	From Another Universe, We're Inseparable

**Author's Note:**

> This rose from a wee little headcanon where Fontaine and Booker were in love, Booker died during the events of Burial at Sea and then Atlas falls in love with Jack because Jack reminds him of Booker. I added a few in-game dialogue because it just fit with the story but I tried my best to include unique scenes as well. 
> 
> This was beta'd by @yumebeats on Twitter. Thank you! Please follow me on @giacumetti on Twitter for more sad Bioshock headcanons that I think about randomly.

_There’s always a lighthouse. There’s always a man. There’s always a city._

 

**FONTAINE’S APARTMENT, RAPTURE, 1956**

“Constants and variables…”

 

“What was that, darling?” Frank Fontaine asked, sitting up and lighting a cigarette. He looked over at the man in his bed, the two spending the night together.

 

“Constants and variables,” Booker Dewitt repeated, staring up at the ceiling. “It just came to mind. Something that never leaves me.”

 

“And what’s it supposed t’mean?”

 

“It means there are infinite universes,” Booker started to explain, turning his head towards his lover. “And in all those universes, there are things that stay the same, the constants; and things that are slightly different because of the different constants, which are the variables. There could be different versions of me, and because of that, different versions of you.”

 

“Infinite universes where we might not be together?” Fontaine teased with a small smirk on his face. “Can’t imagine.”

 

**RAPTURE, SEPTEMBER 12, 1958**

Booker Dewitt heard about the news from the gossipers of Rapture. They never did learn to shut up.

 

_“Frank Fontaine is dead. He was killed by Ryan’s men.”_

_“I heard he wasn’t a good man anyway. He smuggled drugs into the city. He used his charity work to make sure no one suspected him. He’s always been a parasite.”_

 

Booker shut himself in his office after that. After losing Sally and Fontaine, he was a broken man. He resorted to drinking and even more gambling, the thing that made him lose Sally in the first place. His plan to arrive in Rapture and relieve himself of his guilt was failing. He blamed himself for losing Sally, just like how he lost Anna. And somehow, he blamed himself for Fontaine’s death, too.

 

“He wasn’t a good man, but I’m sure all of you are saints!” Booker hissed into the empty room, drunk one night in his small office.

 

Guilt ate at Booker every single night. Until _she_ arrived, putting him to rest.

 

**TOY DEPARTMENT, DECEMBER 31, 1958**

“What’s the holdup?”

“Just havin’ a bit of a laugh, Atlas.”

“This ain’t a sportin’ event. Put a bullet in her. No need to torture the poor girl. We’re not animals, y’know?”

 

When Atlas recognized the greying hair, the brown vest, and the mark on his right hand, he tried his best not to react.   _It’s you. I was coming back. I was going t’fucking come back to you._ He moved Booker’s dead body, staring down at him while he did so. _She did this to you, didn’t she? She let you die…_

 

Atlas eyed the barely-conscious girl, who in turn was screaming for the little sister. He sighed to himself, taking Booker’s cold hand when no one was looking and gently kissing it. _I’m sorry, darling._

 

“I can get you back to Rapture!” Elizabeth suddenly cried.

 

That stopped Atlas in his tracks. He realized he could get some help with his original plan, while also avenging Booker once he no longer needed Elizabeth. A city to control in exchange for a lousy little sister. Atlas knew the girl was smart, but everything was in his favor.

 

He was going to get everything he wanted.

 

**FONTAINE’S DEPARTMENT STORE, DECEMBER 31, 1958**

_"It says… ‘Would you kindly.’”_

 

“We’ve got the activation phrase. Now all we’ve got to do is get that genetic freak of nature on an airplane and Rapture’s ours!”

 

Atlas swung the wrench one last time, walking away from the dying girl and the little sister. He’d never felt better in the past few weeks, in the past few hours. He felt like he could finally get a good night’s rest. But he knew there was still work to be done. A city to steal. A man to control.

 

He never thought it would end up like this.

 

**RAPTURE CONTROL CENTER, 1960**

Andrew Ryan was dead. Rapture was now in Atlas’ control. Jack was there, standing in his deceased father’s office, waiting. Atlas could easily have him killed, could easily have him kill himself.

 

Except for one thing: he fell for Jack.

 

_This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I should kill him. I should kill him. I should kill him. I should let him die._

 

_Like what happened to Booker? Booker. He reminds me so much of Booker._

 

“How about we finally meet?” Atlas eventually inquired through the radio. “Make your way back to Arcadia, would you kindly?”

 

‘Would you kindly.’ He fucking hated using that phrase now. He used Jack. Used him like a puppet for his own personal gain. What if Jack hated him? He now knew the truth about himself, and about Atlas. Atlas had to explain himself, didn’t he? And why did he feel so bad? He was a conman. He was always a manipulative piece of shit. He had a plan to rule Rapture, but now all he wanted was Jack.

 

“You made me so damn soft, darling…”

 

**ARCADIA, 1960**

Atlas waited anxiously for Jack to arrive, knowing he would eventually. He heard footsteps, and the familiar sound of a wrench tapping against metal. He turned his head, seeing Jack making his way over to him.

 

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Jack. _He looks nothing like Booker,_ Atlas thought to himself. _But they’re so similar in so many different ways._

 

Jack was now in front of Atlas. He had a frown on his face and he raised his wrench, ready to hit the man he thought he knew. But Jack did not swing. Instead, he dropped the wrench and started to cry.

 

“Why?” Jack softly asked. It was the first time that Atlas had heard the man speak.

 

Jack collapsed on his knees, sobbing hard. Atlas quickly kneeled by him. He was hesitant, but eventually pulled Jack into a hug.

 

“I’m sorry,” Atlas whispered, unable to say anything else.

 

“What am I?”

 

“More human than I am, darling.”

 

After Jack calmed down, Atlas explained everything. He told Jack who he really was. He told him his original plan. He even told Jack he was going to let him die.

 

“Why didn’t you?” Jack wondered. “Let me die. You could’ve. You had me under your control this entire time. You still do. Why did you decide to meet me? Why are you telling me all of this?”

 

“Because I wanted to earn your trust again,” Atlas answered. _Because I love you_ , he wanted to say instead.

 

“I could never forgive myself if I let somethin’ bad happen t’you.” _Like how something bad happened to Booker._

 

“Could never forgive myself if I left you alone.” _Like how I left Booker all alone._

 

Jack had always been a little too trusting; and he carefully thought about what could happen to him, and what could happen to Atlas. But if Atlas, or Fontaine, was willing to be so open to him now, to tell him who he really was, with the risk of losing Jack forever, then maybe Jack could trust him as time progressed.

 

Maybe Jack could love him back.

 

**FONTAINE’S APARTMENT, NEW YORK CITY, 1963**

Atlas Fontaine laid in bed and lit a cigarette, staring up at the ceiling. _It means there are infinite universes._

 

He looked over to his sleeping lover, reaching over to touch the tattoo on his wrist. _There could be different versions of me, and because of that, different versions of you._

 

“Constants and variables,” Atlas muttered to himself, not realizing he’d woken Jack up.

 

“What was that?” Jack questioned, blinking at the other man, still half-asleep.

 

Atlas, with a smile on his face, just held Jack close like he always did. _Infinite universes where we might not be together... I can’t imagine._

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I just have headcanons that everyone was involved with everyone. It just makes sense to me. Thanks for reading! Leave kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Also yeah, I figured Atlas would've kept his name as Atlas once he and Jack got together. He put Frank Fontaine behind him. Rip.


End file.
